


compulsion

by Romanfan



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Desire, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romanfan/pseuds/Romanfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All it took was a brief look. A chance sighting of the handsome stranger at an exclusive bar and what sets in is an unyielding urge, which he can't make sense of or fight. Against his better judgement Dean sets out to meet this man. Roman, a high class escort...</p>
            </blockquote>





	compulsion

** Compulsion **

**_ All it took was a brief look. A chance sighting of the handsome stranger at an exclusive bar and what sets in is an unyielding urge, which he can't make sense of or fight. Against his better judgement Dean sets out to meet this man. Roman, a high class escort... _ **

Dean sits on the plush bed, its black silk sheets feeling way too elegant against his callous fingertips. The room is large with a high ceiling, elegantly decorated with what looks to be expensive curtains and bedroom furniture. The tall walls make him feel small and insignificant in this world of high class escorting. It's the kind of room which only serves to remind Dean of how out of place he is. The man at front who lead him into the room after taking his money gave him the exact impression. He looked at Dean's money like it offended him. Well, he's probably use to dealing with crisp $100 bills, not tatty 10's and 20's Dean reasoned.

Even as Dean sits and waits for the man he paid so highly for to enter the room, he can't help but feel the anxiety rise in him. Having just paid a hefty little sum for an hour with the hottest male escort he has ever seen, he now contemplates whether this was a wise move. He cannot rationalise how he feels, how he's been feeling for the past week now. He feels completely and utterly unable to control the urge which has stirred in him since he first saw this man following chance visit to an upmarket bar which was also a cover for a private VIP prostitute service. Dean was on his way to the gents when a wrong turn had him at a private room which was partially opened. As he peered through he saw him. Tall, dark, handsome man, deep brown eyes and lips that looked utterly sinful. On that occasion he was directed away from the private area by a security guy, but only after that image was burnt into his memory, leaving him with a dull ache in his chest. On making enquiries at the bar he was told about the private area, how wealthy men looking for discreet services visited and paid handsomely for them.

Ever since then, it was like Dean had been placed under some mysterious spell. He could not stop thinking about the beautiful stranger. His days and nights were occupied by the image that had burned itself into Dean's memory, derailing his ability to think straight, to eat, to sleep, to just be him. He couldn't explain what was happening to him. Never had he felt like this. Never had anyone taken such precedence over his mind before. It scared him. And yet, the desire was so strong. He needed to see this man again. He needed to be close to him, to be in his presence. A week of agonising and Dean finally decided that he could not continue as he had been. Dean needed to see him again. Returning to the bar and on making enquiries he found that the man who he desired was named Roman. He was very much sought after and was priced higher than the other escorts.

As Dean sat waiting for Roman to enter the private room, his mind was going crazy. He still could not figure out what he was supposed to be doing here. Yes, he's just paid for a sexual service, but that was not what compelled him to search out Roman. Dean did not have a problem getting sex for free- this was not what this was about. And that is what scared him. Sexual need and physical attraction does not have to be deep and meaningful. Often, in Deans experience, it was superficial. That he could handle. But what he could not do was shake off this feeling which was unyielding in him. He could not put a name on it, or make sense of it. But it was there and he had no control over it. He hated this sense of powerlessness.

Dean was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of the door closing. He looks up to see Roman, dressed in a tight black shirt and pants. The outfit is ridiculously snug, hugging his muscular physique and making him look as hot as hell. Hair pulled back into a tight bun, he looked breathtakingly elegant, so much so that Dean almost stopped breathing. The air is crackling with anticipation. Roman's looking right at him as he smoothly glides towards the bed, hands moving to his wrist watch which he unfastens and tosses on the elegant black side table. Long, slender fingers then move to undo the buttons at the wrist and then to unbutton his shirt down. Not once relinquishing eye contact with Dean, Roman's gaze completely floors him. He can't look away. Completely spellbound, he can feel his jaw drop, his mouth becoming dry. Roman kneels down between Dean's parted legs at the end of the bed, the intenseness of those brown eyes threatening to unravel Dean quickly.

“What's your name?”, Roman speaks for the first time and if Dean were not already awestruck by his physical presence, that voice would be do it. Smooth as silk, deep as the ocean. Calming, yet laced with authority.

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat before he speaks. “Dean. I'm Dean”, said just above a whisper, because for some reason Dean struggles to speak any louder. The presence of this man completely overpowering his senses. His heart racing, his brain fizzling. Roman smiles softly at him, as his hands come to rest on Dean's thighs.

“You don't usually do this do you?” Dean's only response is to shake his head from side to side, again eyes locked firmly on Roman. “Well, the rules are: no kissing; no sex without a condom, gotta keep it safe so no swallowing either. No marking in any way, so that means no biting or scratching. Services are discreet so what happens here, stays here. You want slow sex or a rough fuck you got it. You can give it to me or I can give it to you”. Roman says all this with such softness, whilst his hands slowly caress Dean's thighs almost as if he's in tune with Dean. As if he can sense the nervousness in him and wants to help him settle. “So Dean, what's it gonna be?”

Dean just looks at Roman, his eyes drinking in the sight in front of him. Dean seems to have lost the ability to formulate sentences. The presence, smell and touch of this man becoming too much for him to handle. When Dean does not respond, roman's soft, large hands find their way to hold Dean's face, his thumb pads gently stroking over his cheeks. The softness in those dark eyes don't falter once and the smile that finds its way onto Roman's face fills Dean with a beautiful and weird combination of butterflies and nausea. “You ok Dean?”

Dean responds with a small smile- dimples and all- “I'm, I'm not use to this... I'm nervous…I'm sorry. I just…I don't know why I'm here. I mean, I saw you a week ago, by chance and since then I kinda can't stop thinking about you, ya know”. The minute the words are out, Dean regrets it. Great, he's just come across as an obsessive freak. Dean feels the panic rise in him. He tries to move away but struggles as Roman refuses to budge from his spot between his knees. Roman strokes Dean's cheeks again forcing Dean to close his eyes at the feeling. It has a calming effect on him, and helps Dean regulate his breathing. Dean clears his throat, “we don't have to do anything. We can, ya know, just talk.”

“You paid all that money to talk to me?”

“Yeh,” Dean replied with a small chuckle. “I…I want to get to know you... I guess….”, Dean says with a shrug of his shoulders, eyes firmly on Roman. A strange yet electric feeling passes between them as silence filled the room.

The intensity of the stare remained whilst Roman spoke, “no one's ever just wanted to talk. Very little talking is involved in what I do”.

“Well, I want to talk- if that's OK,” Dean's voice was just above a whisper. Although the desire to talk was there, Dean could not ignore the overwhelming need he felt to just have this feeling wash over him as it was currently doing. Roman's frame between his legs, his face in his hands, those magic fingers softly caressing his cheeks making him feel like he was floating on air. He could happily just remain like this, in this serenity.

Dean's eyes open at the feel of Roman's soft breath against his face. Roman was incredibly close now, mere inches away and Dean's calmness is fractured oh so sweetly again, his breath becoming shallow, his senses raging again. Roman's looking at him intently. Roman's hands slowly moved down Dean's torso, setting Dean's skin on fire through his layer of clothing. Taking Dean's hands in his, Roman turns them over to look at the younger mans calloused palms. “You use your hands for a living?”, Roman asks softly. Dean can feel the hair on his arms rise, chasing goose bumps all over his body as Roman's fingers gently move over every line and groove on his dry palms. How can such small touches have that kind of power? “What do you do for a living Dean?” Brown eyes soft and warm, making him feel at ease, telling him it's ok to tell. He won't judge.

“I'm a mechanic. Work down at automotives just outta town”.

Roman looks at Dean carefully. He can't read what's written in those handsome features, but for the first time tonight, it's almost as though Roman cool exterior has been slightly cracked.

“You paid all that money just to talk to me?” The question was there again and this time it was laced with the kind of need to know where a nod of the head would not be sufficient. But what can Dean offer as a response? He himself can't make sense of how he is feeling, or why. Dean averts his gaze, looking down at his hands which remained firmly in Roman's. The silence in the room was deafening. A small chuckle from Roman has Dean looking up. Roman's smile is wide, sincere and again bought with it a calm which was lost for a while. Dean can't help but smile back, mirroring that of Roman's. And then there is a shift in the energy between them as Roman stops laughing and looks at Dean intensely, his eyes becoming dark. It makes Dean feel exposed and weak but also chases a chill down his spine.

“Dean, I know you paid good money- hard earned money- to talk to me, but the thing is, in here, I'm not use to it. It's not something I'm really comfortable with”. Roman then moves in close, and whispers in Dean's ears, his voice smooth like silk and laced with lust, “plus, I really, really want to fuck you. Like, you have no idea.”

The words shoot lightning bolts throughout Dean's body, make his dick swell in the confines of his jeans. Dean inhales sharply when Roman flicks his tongue over his ear lobe, “I know I shouldn't be dictating this, this is your hour. But, I've not wanted to take someone in so long. So I'm asking you Dean. Please, let me fuck you. I'll make it so good for you.” Roman punctuates his words by nibbling Dean's earlobe and with a firm grope of the dirty blonde's crotch, feeling the hard flesh pulse under his palm.

Dean moans out despite himself. He was turning putty in this man's hands. He feels deeply conflicted. He does want to talk to Roman. He wants to get to know the man whose been at the forefront of his thoughts for a week now. To try and work through this irrational urge he had for him. He needed to talk because a part of him rationalised that once that happened, whatever infatuation he had would go. Because talking would give him clarity, that they were worlds apart and had nothing in common. And then he could move on. Get things back to normal. But right now his body was betraying him. Dean pushed his hips further into Roman's palm which remained firmly on his crotch, applying just the right pressure to keep Dean's brain from functioning. He couldn't fight this feeling even if he wanted to. Dean wanted this. He needed Roman inside of him too. He couldn't think straight right no more so talking was certainly out of the question. Breathing harsh and shallow, Dean just about gets his words out, “Yeh ...Yeh...fuck me... please...”

Roman pulls back from Dean's earlobe with a low growl, his eyes now fully dark with lust. His hands move slowly to the hem of Dean's shirt, lifting it up and over his head, tossing it gently to the side. He sits back a little to allow him a better view of Dean's torso. His eyes slowly rake over the soft and muscular pale skin, visually devouring inch of his flesh. Dean's breathing hard, just like roman, the air now humming with anticipation and need. Roman moves in close, taking a nipple into his mouth. An open mouthed kiss followed by a dart of the tongue, swirling around the nipple has Dean gasp and arch his back up, desperate to get more of the exquisite contact. His hands grab onto Roman's arms as tries to anchor himself, pleasure threatening to consume him as Roman uses his lips and tongue to harden his nipple. Roman then moves to the other nipple, again taking his time to gently harden the bud.

Roman then softly pushes Dean's upper body slowly onto the bed. Dean grabs at the sheets under him as Roman trails wet kisses down his torso, hands caressing down his sides igniting ever nerve in his body. Roman's hands soon find their way to Dean's belt buckle, leisurely undoing it. The unzipping of his jeans echo around the large room as Dean props up on his elbows to see Roman. Roman pulls down the faded pants along with his black boxers, stopping at his ankle to yank his boots off before all items of clothes are free from Dean's body. Once done Roman repositions himself between Dean's legs. Dean's dick stands up proud, twitching in excitement at what's to come. Roman drinks in the sight in front of him, clearly impressed by Dean's package. After a second of observation, Roman grabs hold of the impressive length, slowly stroking it from the tip to the base a few times. Roman looks up to see Dean looking at him through half- lidded eyes, his breathing already becoming laboured. He swallows hard as he tries to hold on whilst those firm hands on his dick were making his insides go crazy.

“Keep your eyes on me Dean”, Roman says seductively before he moves to drag his tongue slowly across the slit of Dean's cock, collecting the pre-cum on his long, thick tongue. Dean moans louder than intended and tries desperately to keep his eyes open. Knuckles now turning white as he grabs the sheets beneath him for dear life. Roman is looking right at him as he begins to bob his head up and down Dean's dick. Tongue, lips and teeth working Dean's cock to perfection. Licking, sucking and kissing his dick and sac, threatening to make Dean blow before he wants to. Dean tries to focus on his breathing as Roman begins to deep throat Dean. Rocking his hips into Roman's hot wet mouth felt incredible. The pleasure builds until it is too much for Dean; he can't keep his eyes open or his head up. Throwing his head back on the bed he squeezes his eyes shut. “Ro... Roman... I'm...Oh God. ...I'm gonna come”, Dean's pants out breathlessly. Roman moves his mouth from Dean's dick. The wet pop sound it made was sinfully beautiful.

” Don’t move”, Roman says breathlessly as he gets up and walks towards the side table. He pulls the draw and retrieves a bottle of lube and a condom before coming back to Dean. Dean's looking raptly throughout, unable to keep his eyes off roman as he strokes his hard dick slowly, desperate for roman to return to him. Taking his position between Dean's legs, Roman places the items on the bed. On his knees again, Roman scoots closer to the foot of the bed. Stormy brown eyes meet lust filled sparkling blue, “if you want me to stop or if any of this hurts just say”. Dean nods his head giving Roman the okay to continue.

Roman lifts both Dean's legs and places them over his shoulders. Wrapping his arms around Dean's thighs he pulls him closer. Roman then spreads Dean's cheeks apart and before Dean's brain can catch up, Roman's thick wet tongue is dragged across his puckered hole. Dean gasps loudly. Roman begins a relentless and sweet assault, dragging his tongue repeatedly and firmly over Dean's twitching and sensitive hole. Dean throws his head back as the pleasure consumes him, white heat emanating from him. Dean feels Roman takes his hands and place them on the back of his thighs, telling Dean to keep his legs up. Dean then feels a wet intrusion push into his rectum. Instinctively he tenses up for a second before he feels one of Roman's hands over his, stroking it gently, trying to relax him. It takes a short while but Dean does relax and he is rewarded with a stroke to his prostrate. The sensation has Dean biting down on his bottom lip hard as he tries to stop himself from screaming. Roman adds a second and then third finger as he patiently works on opening Dean up for him.

By the time Roman is satisfied Dean is properly stretched, Dean is a sweaty, withering mess on the bed. Dean moans at the loss of Roman again as he moves to take his clothes off, quickly and impatiently. Dean watches in awe as each and every inch of Roman's warm caramel skin comes into full view. Dean looks on, absolutely mesmerised by the sight in front of him. A body like Adonis, firm and thick. Grooves and contours which Dean wants to desperately touch. Words cannot do justice to describe this man. The sleeve long tattoo on him only added to his allure. And to top it all off, the most beautiful dick he had ever seen; thick, long and hard. Roman's penis was not only impressive but also very intimidating. Like wow. He bet that dick would have no trouble finding and then pulverising his prostrate- once he squeezed it in. If the visual stimulation on display was not breath-taking enough, the pièce de résistance had to be Roman's long ebony tresses. He watched completely mesmerised as the hair was set free from the confines of its bun. Good God. Dean again found it hard to breath-like the air had dispersed from his lungs. And if he was to die right now, he'd die happy.

Roman ripped the condom packet and rolled the condom onto his cock. He looked up to see Dean staring at him, unable to read his expression. Roman moves back to the end of the bed, back between Dean's legs. He spreads Dean's legs apart wide before looking at Dean. “You ok?”. Dean doesn't say a word, just looks dead straight at Roman. Roman's begins to feel apprehensive. “If you don't want to- “

“No!” Dean shouts out, cutting Roman off. Taking a deep breath, Dean speaks again, “I want this, I just... You're so beautiful...kinda lost myself for a second. Sorry”. Roman looks at Dean and smiles widely, and Dean can't help but smile back. Roman reaches out to hold Dean around his trim waist and without much warning he pulls Dean onto his lap on the floor. Dean's hands find their way to strong shoulders, holding on tight as his eyes locked on Roman. In those sparkling brown orbs Dean finds a sense of security. He's no longer nervous or afraid. Desire completely taking over.

Roman's arm remains firmly round Dean's slender waist, whilst a hand moves to the base of his penis, holding it in place. Dean takes the cue. Lifting himself ever so slightly on the balls of his feet, he bears his well prepped hole over Roman's dick. Gently he pushes down, the burning sensation which comes with being stretched so completely is dull compared to the intensity of Roman's gaze. Still, Dean's breathing becomes shallow as his body tries to accommodate Roman. “keep breathing, its ok”. Roman comforts him, as a hand rubs gently at his back. After a few seconds, Dean feels ready to move. He begins to roll his hips and lulls his head back as Roman's cock immediately finds Deans prostrate. Roman hands are on either of Dean's butt cheeks, spreading them apart, allowing him to plunge deeper into Dean. Slowly they rock into each other, noses almost touching, hot breath against parted lips, eye contact not slipping once.

The rhythm soon changes to hard and fast thrusts as Dean begins to bounce on Roman's dick, his finger nails digging into Roman's shoulders as he tries desperately to hold on. The sea of pleasure threatening to set him adrift. Dean's prostate is being ravaged by Romans beast of a dick. Every time Dean felt close it was almost like Roman knew and would slow the tempo down, trying desperately to make this last, for as long as possible.

Sweaty bodies colliding, gasps and moans bouncing off the walls, Roman sucking on Dean's neck, one hand tangled in his dirty blonde locks whilst the other had a death like grip around his waist. “fuck... you feel so fucking good... so fucking amazing”, Roman panted whilst bucking up hard into Dean's wet heat. Dean wanted to say something too. To let Roman know he's never felt anything so incredible before. But his brain was being short circuited from stimulation overload. All he could do to respond was to whimper and moan louder. All of a sudden Roman picks Dean up and slams him down onto the bed. Draping one leg over his shoulder, Roman pushes back into Dean hard, tearing a scream from his mouth as his prostate is struck again. Hands hooking under strong muscular arms, Dean throws his head back onto the plush pillows, his other leg wrapping around that thick wide frame, pulling him in impossibly deep, rubbing his hard leaking cock sublimely between their hot bodies. Panting and moaning into Roman's ear, Dean is about to lose control completely. His stomach tightening, sparks rushing through his body, making him feel more alive than he has ever felt before. The only thing that would heighten this experience for Dean is to feel those plush lips against his. Confidence surging, he blows caution to the wind. Unhooking his arms, he moves them to get a hold of Roman's face, pulling it away from the crook of his neck. Stormy eyes meet and compulsion overtakes Dean's senses as he places a soft kiss on Roman's lips.

The slightest brush of lips and Roman's pulling back. His movements stopping. Dean can see the shock written on those handsome features, though he remains resolute. He moves in again and captures those lips in another sweet kiss, taking the opportunity to push his tongue slightly and gently into Roman's warm mouth. Everything stands still as he looks at Roman whose looking at him with an expression he can't read. And then, without warning, Roman crashes his lips to Dean's, hands moving to grip Dean's body tight. Mouths opening and tongues entering warm crevices. A kiss which was full of passion as it was with need. Dean feels his insides melt as his lips move against Roman's, the electricity becoming even more intense. Dean's body begins to shake, the pleasure overwhelming him. He struggles to hold on as he feels that familiar tightness in his stomach. Moaning into the kiss Roman's movements speed up, becoming faster, slamming harder and harder into Dean's quivering body.

Bed creaking under pressure, the metal frame of the head slamming repeatedly into the wall threatening to leave dents. It all overwhelms Dean's already stretched resolve. Neither Dean or Roman can announce their orgasm as Dean comes with a loud moan, finally breaking the kiss, vision blackening as he comes hard. Roman follows closely behind with a growl, holding Dean's body even tighter, muffling his growl in the crook of Dean's neck. Exhausted, Roman collapses on Dean and Dean instinctively wraps his arms around him, a hand moving to his long dark hair to lazily card through the sweaty soft stands. They lie in each other's arms, their breathing ragged.

There's complete silence for a few moments as both Dean and Roman try and regulate their breathing. In the calmness of the room Dean's brain is still running, but his thoughts are not as chaotic as they were when he first entered the room. Dean can't help but feel a sense of peace lying here tangled up in Roman, basking in the afterglow.

The tranquillity is unfortunately shattered by a voice on the other side of the door, telling Roman that it's been an hour and then some and he needs to get a move on. Roman moves to look at Dean. A hand gently moves some frizzy curls out of Dean's eyes. Dean in turn tucks Romans hair behind his ears. They stare at each other for what seems like the longest time, a soft smile playing on both their lips.

“You ok?” Roman asks.

“Yeh, I'm good”.

“Good... the washroom is to your left. I gotta go, but you freshen up”. Roman slowly, as if reluctant, moves off Dean, carefully pulling his now soft member from within Dean making sure to keep the condom intact. Dean sits up feeling the loss of Romans warmth to his core. He slowly gets up from the bed, looking down at his stomach. So much cum. Evidence that he's never climaxed like that before. The smile on his lips is wide despite the pain he feels radiating from his back passage. He wraps his torso in sheet he pulls off the bed. Reaching for his pants he slowly walks towards the bathroom. Before he enters the door he turns to look at Roman whose wiping his torso with some tissues.

“Roman?”

Roman turns to face Dean, waiting for him to speak. But now that Dean has his attention he doesn't know what to say. They look at each other again, brown and blue orbs sparkling as the air remains charged between them. Roman finally breaks the silence with a small chuckle. His cheeks flush as he again tells Dean to go and get cleaned up.

By the time Dean exits the bathroom, Roman's gone. His clothes, his watch, every trace of him. The only thing that remains evident of their passionate session are the ruffled, unruly sheets on the bed. Dean suddenly feels a pang of pain in his chest. Roman just left him.

Dean makes his way slowly to the bar, his eyes search for sight of Roman, desperate for another look. But no such luck. Dean puts his hands into his pocket and pulls out what little money he has left. It's enough to get him a bus ride back home, but right now he really needs a drink. So he stops at the bar to buy himself the most expensive shot of Jack Daniel's he would ever pay for.

Sitting alone at the bar and despite being surrounded by bodies and noise, Dean is lost in his thoughts. He can't stop replaying what happened with Roman. The way Roman looked at him; the way he touched, how he felt against his skin and tasted. Everything felt so real, so natural with Roman. How could he feel that kind of connection with someone he knew nothing about? And Roman? The way he responded to Dean? The intimacy they shared? It felt natural. Real. Or was it? Maybe it was all an illusion. Maybe Roman was just very good at his job in that he knew how to give his clients what they wanted. Needed. After all, Dean was a client. The minute he walked into the bar and made his way to the VIP area he was essentially paying for sex. Dean berates himself. He's always held a good defence around himself. both in a physical and emotional sense. Experiences in life have often been brutal and he's learnt to protect himself. But Roman obliterated all that in a heart beat. How could Dean become so careless, so reckless like that? Why did he let things gets that far? Because, as much as he tries to think about it as nothing more than great sex, his body and heart protest. They seem to not want to listen to reason- whatever that may be. Dean still does not know.

Dean's heart sinks to his stomach as he mind goes into overdrive. When he entered the bar Roman was playing havoc with his mind, but now Roman was effectively in Dean's bloodstream. Pumping through his veins. Seeing Roman, being with him did not give Dean the clarity he had hoped for. Instead it further complicated things. It only fuelled the urge within him to see and now also feel Roman again. But he knows that's not possible. Roman was way above his pay grade, no way Dean could afford to keep this up. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Maybe Roman was a one-time great fuck and nothing more. Even thinking this fills Dean with dejection. He quietly sips his drink- again looking around desperately to see if he could catch sight of Roman. Again, no such luck.

Finishing his drink Dean slowly stands to leave, feeling the pain in both his backside and his chest consume him. As he moves to leave, the bartender puts an envelope in front of him. Dean looks at the envelope and then the bartender.

“You're Dean right?”

“Yeh”. Dean relies wearily

“Then that's for you”.

Dean picks up the envelope and tears it open. Inside there's the money he had paid to see Roman. He knows this by the slight engine oil marks and rough creases on them. It’s all there. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There's a scrap piece of paper also enclosed. There's not much on it, but what little is written is enough to make Dean's heart flutter, give his emotions the full 360. A big smile forms on his lips and his cheeks flush. He carefully folds the paper and tucks it into his inner jacket pocket. He pockets the rest of his money safely whilst taking some of it to buy himself another drink. He sits down as he absentmindedly looks around the bar, slowly bobbing his head to whatever music is playing in the background. All the while the anticipation softly and sweetly rising in him. He feels his breath become shaky, but he closes his eyes and tries to calm himself. Glancing at his watch, he notes the time. 9.34pm.

Roman wants to meet him at the bar at 11...

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was my first ever one-shot and naturally it had to be Ambreigns. My first real attempt at creative writing and slash. I've done a bit of drabble on my Tumblr page, but nothing more. Hope you guys enjoyed it. Constructive feedback is greatly received, but having said that, I highly doubt I will be doing this again. Hats off to those fan fic writers who do this on a regular basis. Thank you for reading.


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